


These scars the pain carved.

by MisaSDS



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: A lot of cursing from Gokudera part, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Mafia past for the two, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24881767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisaSDS/pseuds/MisaSDS
Summary: He found an image he never thought he had ever seen. Something like that was almost impossible to conceive, to the point Gokudera could feel his body freeze, and his nerves stop working as if someone had pressed the off button for his movements.Since when did Mukuro possess so many scars?
Relationships: Gokudera Hayato/Rokudou Mukuro
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64
Collections: KHR Rare Pair Week 2020





	These scars the pain carved.

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [KHR_Rare_Pair_Week_2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/KHR_Rare_Pair_Week_2020) collection. 



When they finally lost sight of their enemies, the two fell wearily to the ground. Although it had run smoothly at first, the mission was now a lost cause they had to abandon unless they wanted to end up with enough wounds for not to move for days. Gokudera felt his heart beat too fast, and his muscles were tense due to the adrenaline rush he'd had. The mist around him, which served as a kind of protective shield, courtesy of his companion to be able to go unnoticed, was gradually fading because his creator no longer felt any danger.

_How would he explain what happened to the Tenth?_

How would he tell Tsuna that it had been his entire fault because he was so paralyzed and not reacted, even when his undesirable partner had yelled and scolded him? Or that the damn illusionist was forced to use too much of his energy to drag him out of the chaos and save his fucking life?

His blood boiled. It bothered him as nothing else had before, but he had to admit: Mukuro had saved his life. If it weren't for the illusionist, in those moments he'd be a cold corpse rotting in the enemy cede; heck, if it wasn't for him, he couldn't even have gotten out and managed to hide in the stinky alley they were.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm down, and when he opened them again, he found an image he never thought he had ever seen. Something like that was almost impossible to conceive, to the point Gokudera could feel his body freeze, and his nerves stop working as if someone had pressed the off button for his movements.

"Mukuro..."

The illusionist turned to see him with a certain weariness reflected in his heterochromatic eyes. He seemed to be on the verge of collapse, to lose consciousness, and his right eye was spilling so much blood that it was alarming.

"Oh? But look at your face, it seems you see a ghost in front of you," he scoffed. "What happened with all your confidence and ferocity? Were you so afraid of those people?” he said sardonically.

Gokudera was about to yell at him and threaten him to shut his mouth if he didn't want to end up smashed into pieces by his dynamites because he didn't need the bastard Rokudo Mukuro to point out how embarrassing his performance had been just moments ago. Still, before the string of curses left his mouth, the gesture of pain that appeared on the mist guardian's face stopped him, as did the sudden realization that, as stupid as it sounded, Mukuro looked incredibly weak.

He was pale, to the point of being preoccupying because he looked like a damn corpse. The bones of his clavicle and shoulders were so marked that they could be seen even through clothing, his figure, in general, looked incredibly thin and with almost no muscles to hold on to, his lips were split, his usually haughty demeanor was down, and the most important thing and what made Gokudera feel an incomprehensible stitch in his chest when he realized it:

Mukuro had several scars.

They could be seen on his face, near his right eye. They could be seen around his neck, forming a ring around it as marked as if someone had used a rope to try to hang him for a long, long time. They could be seen on his wrists: like nasty red bracelets that trapped him like chains, and further on his arms, you could see more traces. Damn, even the skin that could be seen on his chest showed a few. How many scars exactly did he have?

How was it possible he was barely aware of their existence?

Noticing his gaze looking him up and down, inspecting him in stupefaction, Mukuro growled.

" _Kufufu_. What's wrong?” he spat acidly, "Surprised to see how I really am?”

Gokudera would usually have been easily provoked with that: his temperament was not the best, and Mukuro was often a constant pain in the ass; but that time, due to shock, surprise, or the divinity of some god, who knows, his mind focused on only one part of his words:

_« Surprised to see how I really am? »_

He understood it almost immediately.

"You are a complete bastard," he said, "So is that why you can always stay on your feet despite being hurt? Is that why you came out as if nothing had happened from Vindice _? You use illusions in yourself_."

Mukuro smirked. "And? Little you care for what I do.”

"You-"

"Stop pretending you are interested in what happens to me, Gokudera Hayato," he snapped with a voice full of poison. "You would be happy if I died and abandoned your precious family. You would be happy if you see my corpse so you could verify I am really dead. You know it, I know it. You do not need to act this way, Tsunayoshi will pat you on the head if you return from this mission with or without me, I can assure you. After all, just the fact you agreed to be with me is worthy of an award, isn't it?”

This time, Gokudera felt his blood boil in less than a second. Gnashing his teeth and with every pore on his body filled with anger, he grabbed Mukuro from the shirt and pulled him closer to himself, making the illusionist laugh with satisfaction as if everything was coming out just as he thought.

"How dare you speak of the Tenth like that?!" he roared. “He accepted you with us; you accursed ungrateful man! Show more respect or I'll-"

About to hit him in the face, he stopped.

A gruesome sensation, similar to if someone had buried a sharp knife in his abdomen, appeared. He couldn't even avoid that his lip trembled, and his too fixed glance revealed the reason for his sudden change of attitude.

Thanks to the position, thanks to the fact he had pulled his shirt and that they were close, Gokudera could see it: weren't only a few marks. But…

Mukuro's chest was full of scars.

Of various sizes and shapes, made with different objects. There seemed to be cuts from a knife or something sharp; there appeared to be traces of too prolonged use of syringes, there seemed-

"Let me go!" Mukuro yelled at him, pushing him back, causing Gokudera to hit the wall behind him in a loud thud that echoed in the tight space. "Stop looking at me!"

Gokudera looked up with a frown that soon dissolved into nothingness when he saw the person in front of him again. Although Mukuro watched him with a kind of electrifying fury that made his eyes glow in the darkness of the alley and gave them an evil-looking, although his face was deformed in a gesture of pure hatred, although he looked threatening, the reality was he was trembling: one could see it if paid enough attention to the way he used his hands to try to hide the view of his chest. Instead of a ferocious beast, to Gokudera, it seemed he was in front of a wounded animal trying at all costs to appear dangerous to avoid being more hurt.

A voice inside his mind reproached him for the remote possibility that Mukuro could always have been just someone abandoned who try to look strong to impress others and not to be hurt again.

Wasn't he the same?

"Mukuro-"

"Do something useful and call the base, will you? Tsunayoshi needs to do something good for a damn first time.”

He frowned, but didn't fall into that desperate provocation. "I'll do as soon as I help you with those wounds."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not an idiot, you bastard. I'm not blind. Beyond your shitty condition, you are hurt,” he raised his hand, the one with which he had pulled the other's shirt: it was stained red. "This blood isn't mine.”

"Silly stuff."

"Mukuro, I'm serious."

"I'm fine, I just need to gather energy again and-"

"Shut your damn mouth and listen to me, will you?!" he shouted. Mukuro looked confused for a few seconds, seconds that Gokudera took to continue. "I have the fucking sun flame, I'm not as good as Sasagawa, but it could help."

"No-"

"You say a word against it, and I'll see myself in need to knock you out to heal you, do you want us to get to that?"

"You couldn't even get close enough before I break your mind into a thousand pieces."

"Wow, and I thought the reason I could suddenly see your true physical condition was because after saving my ass, you were too tired and without the energy to continue doing your illusions," he commented with palpable sarcasm, "Poor idiot I am!"

Mukuro was silent and simply looked away with a gesture of pain.

Gokudera sighed.

"I won't touch any of your scars, okay? Just let me use the flame to at least close the wounds you have.”

The illusionist didn't respond, but he didn't walk away or threaten him when he approached. He even stood still when he started using the sun flame with him.

Gokudera's words were honest: the sun was not his main element, and he could hardly do more than close the most severe wounds, stopping the bleeding. But at least, that way, Mukuro wouldn't spend as much energy trying to heal himself.

The longer Hayato watched him, the more he worried: Mukuro seemed to be on the brink between life and death. Did he never eat? He was so thin that he was scary, not even in those first days of wandering alone on the streets when Gokudera abandoned his family, he had been in such conditions as he.

"Don't mention it to anyone."

"Ah?"

Gokudera looked at him in the eye, Mukuro let out an almost soundless sigh.

"Do not mention it. To nobody. I've had enough with the fact Fran seems to suspect something. ”

“You are teaching him the art of cheating. He is your apprentice, sooner or later he will realize it. ”

“Oh? Did I hear wrong, or are you praising me?”

"Don't ruin the moment. I'm starting to like you and hitting you would end up hurting me too.”

Mukuro laughed low, almost in a whisper, and involuntarily, the corners of Gokudera's lips rose slightly, forming a small smile.

"You don't have to do this."

“Just like you didn't have to save me when you did either? Yes, well. We do stupid things sometimes. ”

"The blood loss affected me more than I thought, are you trying to thank me, little storm?"

"Don't call me like that," he complained. "So what if I want to do it? It wasn't my best time.”

"Oh, don't tell me. I hardly noticed it.”

"Close your mouth," he reproached him. "Hey, listen. They were old acquaintances, okay?” he sighed, “I never expected to see them again; I honestly thought they were dead.”

"Let me guess: they were from your previous family," he mentioned naturally. "What? Don't look at me like that, of course I know where you come from, you have some fame in the mafia world, after all. _Smoking Bomb Hayato_. Your hands are almost as stained with blood as mine.”

Gokudera swallowed.

Sometimes he forgot Mukuro had belonged to that world from the beginning, and he was no novice in the way the mafia acted. Mukuro had grown, suffered, and fought in the same way he had: with claws and teeth, fury, and without mercy. Until this moment, Hayato hadn't fully realized there was someone else like him in his small group: Someone who already carried the weight of several lives on him, someone who knew the horror of the underworld and had his reputation already earned, impregnated with the smell of death.

If he was honest, every second that passed, he felt more stupid. As a right-hand man, as the leader of the guardians, he was supposed to know them and _try to understand everyone_. However, he never wanted to do it with Mukuro. He had always avoided him and doubted him, watching him as if he were an enemy and not an ally – but in his defense, forgetting how he attacked them the first time was difficult.

Yes, he was fucking evasive and didn't show up very often, but that was the mist nature, wasn't it? The fucking untouchable mist.

"They were," he admitted reluctantly, and with an almost imperceptible hint of embarrassment.

"I assumed it was something like that," the illusionist continued, "You looked like you saw a ghost, one you didn't want to meet again."

"So, was it disgustingly obvious?"

"More than you can imagine."

Gokudera snorted.

"Appreciate it wasn't my father, or you should have carried me here unconscious due to shock."

"Are you making fun of yourself to make me feel better?" Mukuro turned to see him, "But how adorable you are, Hayato.”

There were so many things wrong with those words that Gokudera couldn't choose which one to complain about first, so he decided to give him a small blow to the side of the abdomen as a reprimand. Mukuro hissed in pain.

"Person hurt for saving your life, remember?"

"Person who is healing you and can also heal that, remember?"

A few seconds of silence passed before either of them spoke again.

"You can try talking to Shamal to help you with that..." Gokudera said, hesitantly and low, almost soft. "It doesn't seem like it, but he's good. If it weren't for him, I'd have half of my body burned from the nonsense I did when trying to control my dynamite,” he sighed. "If it weren't for him, now I'd be full of scars too."

"You are vey handsome, don't worry.”

"I told you-..." Gokudera stopped, processed the words, and looked at him as confused as if an extra head had suddenly come out, "What the hell did you say?"

“Your expression is worthy of being portrayed. Won't you have a camera at hand?”

"Mukuro!"

The illusionist laughed, this time with more energy.

" _Kufufu_. Now, now, it seems that I'd have told you your sister can fly," he commented with his usual mocking tone of voice. "Did you not realize the horde of fans behind you? Honestly, I'm surprised you're still single.”

"I'm not interested."

"There are boys in the lines, don't worry."

"And who told you that-" Gokudera inhaled profoundly and held back the urge to start ruthlessly shaking the person in front of him. He was supposed to be healing him, damn.

Mukuro shook his head in amusement, and before Gokudera could say another word of his exceptional vocabulary, he spoke, "Thank you."

Just when he thought he was going to explode with anger, Mukuro removed the foundations and shook his very flimsy floor of beliefs. Again.

"However, I don't think anything can be done at this point," he sounded resigned. "Some scars are since I was a child."

"Are you doubting Vongola's magic?" Gokudera commented, suddenly excited, "If we can travel in the fucking time, we can remove a few scars."

"The bazooka is not-"

"We are capable of doing it," he repeated, "Find me after we get out of this, and I'll see to it Shamal helps. I will threaten to blow up his house if he doesn't.”

"And the cruel one is me."

Gokudera couldn't help but let out a funny snort that almost turned into a laugh.

A comfortable silence settled after, neither of them spoke again; they didn't need to do so anymore - the strange bond of companionship that had taken so long to arrive had finally formed: from their stories full of pain and darkness, from the shadows of faceless monsters, and lives taken away.

Because of the scars, they both shared.

Gokudera may not have scars as visible as Mukuro did, but he had many others within him: scars from the past too settled in his soul to fully heal. Scars engraved in silence and pain.

When Mukuro fell asleep after Gokudera contacted the base, leaning on his shoulder with incredible and blatant confidence, the storm guardian only gave an exaggerated and not sincere snort.

He'd let him rest, just for that occasion.

After all, he owed it to him.

**Author's Note:**

> It still seems impressive to me Mukuro is so well when he spent years in a tube filled with water without being able to move, and he is almost never seen eating or sleeping. Hence the idea that everything can really be illusions.  
> Have I mentioned before that I think Mukuro and Gokudera's well-developed relationship would be awesome?


End file.
